


Fresh Rainwater

by mourntheantagonist



Series: prompts from tumblr! [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Neil Hargrove is His Own Warning, The tags make this seem sadder than it is, There's a fluffy dog in this, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 08:00:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27679757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mourntheantagonist/pseuds/mourntheantagonist
Summary: Billy Hargrove loves the rain.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: prompts from tumblr! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2031913
Comments: 6
Kudos: 98





	Fresh Rainwater

Billy loves the rain. Living in California meant a good rainfall was few and far between. He hated to praise Hawkins, Indiana, but he loved that it rained.

Rain in Hawkins was also very much unlike the rain in California. Down in the southwest corner of the country, rainfall was less like a shower and more like a sprinkle. The rain was only ever powerful enough to form little droplets in his hair. Never enough to cause soaking wet clothes or windshield wipers past the lowest setting. It was nothing like that in Hawkins. Instead it was heavy showers. Soaking his clothes until they were dripping. Needing to drive carefully to avoid hydroplaning. But not too carefully. He had to take advantage of those curb-side puddles that were perfect for splashing pedestrians. 

If he had to say anything good about Hawkins, it would have to be the rain. But one thing that was just slightly better than when it was raining, was when it stopped. When the roads were still wet, and the sky still cloudy, but not a single drop of water falling to the earth. It was a weirdly nice feeling. The post rain smell filling his senses. It always seemed to be the perfect temperature. Not too hot. Not too cold. Refreshing was the best way to describe it.

It’s perfect jogging weather. It was always far too hot in California to actually jog the way he wanted. The heat sucking every bit of energy out of him. And trying to breathe in the California smog was just a bad idea in general. Running in the post rain bliss was something else entirely. Taking in only the freshest air. He felt rejuvenated after every run.

That’s how he turned into the guy who stared out of his window every weekend as raindrops fell upon the pane. Looking up at the grey sky waiting for the clouds to part and the rain to subside so he could go out for his run. This was another good thing about Hawkins rain. While it rained often, it didn’t rain for long. It was a perfect balance the way Billy sees it. 

This was how he got to know Hawkins a little better. He ran through surrounding neighborhoods, he ran to the high school and on days he felt really good, he ran into town. 

Weirdly enough running was a lot like surfing. Not so much in the activity itself, but for the purposes that it served. Because it was more than just exercise. It was a nice way of escaping everything. His dad, Susan, hell even Hawkins. Because just like surfing he was able to put himself into a different zone. Enter a separate reality from the one he was stuck in. He could put on his Walkman and run like he had no destination. 

But sometimes he got into the zone a little too much. If the town hadn’t already known him as the bad boy from sunny California, they surely knew him as the punk kid with no respect that was constantly bumping into them on the street. Jaywalking in front of their cars. Splashing carelessly into puddles of fresh rain water. It’s not like he planned to stay in a small town in Indiana. Billy was not the small town type. Some nice rain wasn’t going to suddenly change him into that type of person. And it wasn’t like he couldn’t find rain elsewhere. The Pacific Northwest has both heavy rain and beaches. Maybe he’ll go there instead of going back to California. But the point is, he doesn’t care about what his reputation is. It doesn’t matter. So he pisses off the locals without hesitation and just tries to make the best of it while he’s trapped here.

But maybe Billy should have paid a little more attention. While some humans have the common sense to move out of the way, some animals are lacking in that area.

He’s running through this trail he found in the woods surrounding Loch Nora. In his defense he has no reason to be expecting any company while jogging through the middle of the woods. Perhaps he shouldn’t only be worrying about the company of people and rather whatever wildlife lurks in this part of the country. 

Thank fuck his only run in was with that of a disheveled golden retriever covered in mud and not some seven foot tall bear. Billy doesn’t notice the dog until it begins weaving in and out between Billy’s legs. The dog is damn lucky Billy didn’t step on her tail. She’s got a leash hanging from her collar with no owner on the other end. But Billy only knows that part because the same leash had managed to wrap around both of his ankles, bringing him to his new position of being face down in a muddy puddle with an apparent ache forming where the leash had bound him.

So there he lies. Face down, ankles wrapped, a dog licking the mud off his face, and to top it all off, the owner has finally decided to make an appearance. Something in Billy is not even surprised to find that when he rolls over onto his ass he discovers that the owner is none other than Steve fucking Harrington. Because of course it’s Steve fucking Harrington. The universe can’t allow Billy to have even one normal day. 

Billy notices Steve before Steve actually notices him. He’s about fifty feet away looking in the other direction shouting what he assumes is the mutts name. “Trixie!” Billy is trying to untangle himself from the leash, but not before  _ Trixie  _ makes a run for the human calling her name and yanks herself free, tugging at his right ankle before breaking loose. Billy doesn’t contain the shriek in pain as it almost dislocates the bone.  _ Shit.  _ Something is definitely wrong.

Steve hears him of course. Hears the girlish scream that Billy would never produce voluntarily. Billy is trying to hoist himself up to maintain some of his dignity, but to no avail. Once Steve has made the distance and is standing at his feet, and billy has succumbed to his spot in the dirt, he fires first.

“Keep your damn dog on a leash.” He spits. If he can’t be at eye level, or even stand up, he has to assert his dominance  _ somehow. _

It’s only then that it actually clicks for Steve that Billy hasn’t just parked himself there in the dirt for fun. 

“Oh shit dude! Fuck I’m sorry about that. There’s not usually anyone around here so I thought I’d let her do her business y’know? Also she’s not my dog, I’m just pet-sitting for my neighbor. What am I doing? You don’t care about that. Are you okay? She didn’t bite you or anything, right?”

Billy should be mad. Like his ankle might be broken because this idiot doesn’t know how to take care of a dog. But all that rambling and profuse apologies was kind of…  _ cute?  _ Nope.  _ Nope!  _ Billy shut that thought down  _ immediately. _

Billy gestures down toward his feet. “Fuckin’ took me down by the ankles. You could learn a thing or two from the bitch. Seeing how you play basketball and all.” 

Steve brushes off the comment and lends a hand to help Billy up from the ground. He winces when he applies pressure. Still through the pain he slowly tries to walk away.

“Wait! Dude don’t you live on Old Cherry? That’s like a mile from here.” Billy is just comically limping away from the scene. Logically he knows he’s not getting home on his own. But the last thing he wants is to accept charity from Steve Harrington. 

“I don’t need your help Harrington. I’ll be fine. Go back to your castle.”

Steve just ignores him and throws one of Billy’s arms over his shoulder. “Look, my house is like a block away. Let me drive you home so I don’t have to hear about the news of your body being recovered from the Eno River.”

Begrudgingly, Billy accepts the support, huffing out a ‘fine’ before letting Steve guide him and the dog towards the Harrington household. 

Steve was right. It was definitely closer than his house was. He could already see between the trees the nice looking two story building. Billy had passed by it before on his drives, but only ever in the dark. It looked much different in the daylight. Somehow it looked even more abandoned. Like everything was still kept up. There weren’t vines growing along the side. It looked clean, but it gave off this strange feeling of loneliness. Like few people had ever passed through it. 

The only thing about the house that wasn’t up to code was the pool. The water was green and filled with dead bugs and fallen leaves. Looked like it hadn’t been cleaned out in months. He vaguely recalls hearing about the story of that Barbara Holland chick. Died in his pool. He figures there’s some correlation there. 

By the time they make it to the Beemer, Steve finally gets a good look at his ankle. In only the matter of a couple minutes it’s swollen dramatically and he can see a faint purple forming underneath the skin. He also sees some blood stains forming at his knees, seeping through the grey material of his sweats. And Billy is filthy. He’s got mud on his face and all over his clothes. His hands are all scraped up, most likely from the fall.

Steve’s brain is working hard. Steve has every reason to let Billy go on his own. Not even three months ago the guy was on top of him, beating him nearly to death. Why should Steve be showing him any kindness? But then he remembers back to him and Jonathan. Sure the fight wasn’t nearly as brutal. But Steve has said some fucked up shit to him and Jonathan never held it against him. Sure, Steve actually apologized, but in his own way, he thinks Billy had too. Not so much with words but with his actions. He had left Steve alone ever since that night. He was still aggressive when they were on the court, but the trash talk had dissipated. So maybe there was some remorse there. And look, it’s Steve’s fault his ankle is fucked up so the least he can do is help him get fixed up and get home.

“Okay look. I have to get the dog settled inside before I can take you home. How about you let me take a look at your ankle and then we can both go our separate ways?” 

Billy crosses his arms, balancing on one leg now that he’s no longer being supported. “That wasn’t the deal.”

“Actually the deal was I’d drive you home. That hasn’t changed. Just come inside. Your ankle looks fucked up and I know a thing or two about first aid.” Steve goes back towards Billy and puts his arm back in the same position it was before. Doesn’t give Billy time to protest before he’s made it through the front door. He guides him to the kitchen table where he instructs him to sit down. Then Steve leaves him there along with Trixie. 

Billy scans the kitchen. He’s kind of surprised to see that it looks pretty typical for a kitchen. Nothing too fancy about it aside from the clearly new appliances. It’s just average. Oak cabinets. Basic granite countertops. Doesn’t match the exterior at all. 

Steve comes back without the dog and with a first aid kit in hand. 

“You don’t have to do this man, just take me home.”

Steve just ignores him and kneels down in front of him and works at the laces of his shoe. “It’s my fault you look like you were just mauled by a bear so let me fucking do this alright?” Steve pulls off his shoe frustratedly which probably wasn’t the best idea.

“Ow! What the fuck dude?!”

“Sorry.”

“Look, I’m not here to help you feel better about yourself.” 

Steve pulls his sock off anyway. This time with slightly more care. “Just shut up and let me finish this so I can get you out of here.” Billy slumps back and Steve takes a closer look at his ankle. It looks bad. Clearly broken. “I think you need to go to a hospital. This looks like more than just a sprain.”

Billy's eyes go wide and he gets a little shaky. “No hospitals” he says bluntly.

“Billy I really think you should consider-“

“Did you not fucking hear me? I’m not going to a hospital.”

“Why not?”

Billy scoffs. “Your pretty little head couldn’t handle it.”

“Try me.”

“No. We’re not doing this Harrington. Fix me up and take me home.”

Steve rolls his eyes and gets up from where he was kneeling. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

“Not like there’s anywhere I can go.”

Steve comes back with a pair of sweats and a plain black t-shirt. He tosses them onto Billy’s lap. “Think you can put these on without my help?” Billy is puzzled. “Look I’m not going to let you get mud all over my car so put on the damn clothes.”

Billy is currently in grey joggers and a long sleeved navy hoodie. It’s honestly the most covered up he’s ever seen him. While Billy is dressing himself, Steve is preparing a wet washcloth and grabbing an old package of frozen peas from the freezer. Steve manages to catch a glimpse of Billy with his shirt off. It’s not even close to the first time he’s seen the guys shirtless. Hell he’s seen the guy fully naked. But this feels different. This time feels more vulnerable. This time it’s not a decision he’s making himself. This time Billy has several belt marks running across his back. The shirt is on just as soon as he makes the realization. Steve just tries to act natural.

“Okay. I’m going to wrap your ankle. You’re going to ice it while I clean up your knees. Then I’ll take you home and we never have to talk to each other again. Deal?”

“Deal.”

“Good,” he hands Billy the wet washcloth. “And wash the dirt off your face.”

Steve pulls up a chair so he can sit in front of him. He gently brings Billy’s right leg up to rest on his thigh and places the frozen peas so that they hug his ankle. He slowly rolls up Billy’s pant leg and inspects the damage. Luckily it’s just some minor scraping that a couple bandaids should fix. He grabs some cotton balls and antiseptic from the kit and begins dressing the wound. But he can’t stop thinking about the belt marks.

Any other kind of injury and he could brush it off as Billy going out and picking a fight with someone. But these are unmistakably not from that and Steve doesn’t like entertaining what it actually means. 

Ever since basketball season had ended Neil had been less careful with leaving marks. 

Because he’s in a t-shirt now, Billy can see as the belt marks wrap around his upper arm.

“That why you don’t want to go to the hospital?” Steve points to the markings.

“Leave it alone Harrington.”

Steve just keeps his eyes focused on Billy’s knee. “Who did that to you?”

“I said drop it.”

“Was it your dad?”

Billy quickly jerks his leg forward kicking Steve in the chest. Not a good idea considering that probably hurt him more than it did Steve.

“You proud of yourself Harrington? Finally cracked the code? Glad to finally have something to hold over my head so you can take back your precious crown?”

Steve is still recovering from the blow to his chest. Didn’t really hurt. Just knocked the wind out of him.

“I didn’t mean to-“ 

“Cut the shit alright?”

“No! You cut the shit. Fuck I don’t give a shit about some stupid fake crown.” Steve heaves a sigh. “Look I don’t understand  _ this  _ exactly _.  _ But I get shitty dads.”

Billy is kind of just staring at him blankly. The prior rage seems to have disappeared but he can’t exactly tell for sure. It’s like for the first time in his life he’s actually carefully constructing his next words instead of spitting out whatever comes to mind first.

“Your Dad take away your allowance?” Nope same Billy as always.

“More like he’s never around. Cheats on my mom and my mom cares more about her reputation. I haven’t seen them in weeks now and if you asked me where they are right now I couldn’t tell you.”

Billy bows his head. “Shit. Sorry.” This is a different Billy than he’s used to.

“Can I get back to fixing your ankle now?”

Billy brings his leg back up and Steve carefully situates it back on his thigh. He picks up the package of peas that had fell to the floor and continues his work.

“Can I ask you one question?” Steve asks.

“One.”

“Is Max safe?”

Billy turns his head away. “Yeah.” It comes out a little raspy, like he’s choking on air. “He won’t touch her as long as I’m there.”

Steve’s starting to actually piece it all together. The little details he’s picked up on ever since he made his first appearance at Hawkins High in his loud blue Camaro. Suddenly there’s more nuance to every action he’s taken since then. 

“He shouldn’t touch you either.”

There’s a pang in his chest as he says it. As he watches Billy actively avoid eye contact. He can feel that he doesn’t believe him. That he thinks he deserves it. Because Steve has allowed himself to believe that he was just never good enough for his father. Never understanding that his father was just incapable of showing love. 

Billy doesn’t respond to that. Steve finishes wrapping up Billy’s ankle and patching up his knees, and now he’s helping Billy out to his car. With all this new information in his head he really doesn’t want to drive him home. But they had a deal.

As soon as Steve turns the ignition, Duran Duran starts blaring over the speakers.

“Figured you’d have shitty music taste.” 

“Oh shut up. Unlike you I actually like to hear what they’re saying. Not all the noise.”

“Still. Duran Duran is a different kind of awful.” 

Steve lets himself smile. Even though he’s being berated about his ‘shit taste in music’, he likes this kind of Billy. He’s not saying it to hurt him. It’s like a friendly jab. Maybe Billy Hargrove isn’t exactly who he first thought he was.

The trip is rather short. Old Cherry isn’t too far from Loch Nora when traveling by car. Hungry Like the Wolf hadn’t even ended by the time Steve pulled up to the curb.

Billy doesn’t move to get out of the car. Steve momentarily forgets about his ankle and let’s himself think he’s staying put for another reason. Maybe it has nothing to do with his ankle. He hasn’t said anything. 

Billy wants Steve to say something. Because something weird happened back at the house. The moment Steve said ‘he shouldn’t touch you either’ felt off. He felt something and he needs to know that Steve felt it too.

Steve turns the car off and slumps back into his seat, both hands now tightly gripping the steering wheel. He’s staring past Billy at the house with a look of worry. 

“Look. If you ever need to get away, my doors always open.”

Billy goes to look back at him. Steve is still entranced by the front door. 

“We’re not friends, Harrington. You don’t have to act friendly.”

“We could be.”

“What?”

Steve is looking at Billy now.

“Wouldn’t it be easier if we didn’t spend all this time hating each other and became friends? Forget crowns and keg stand records and fucking Tommy H. and just try to get along? We got two months left until we’re out of here so why not make the best of it?”

“You want to be my  _ friend  _ Harrington?”

Steve puts his head in his hands and groans. 

“We don’t have to be  _ friends _ but we could at least be civil with each other. Just,” he takes another look at the house. “please come over when shit gets bad.”

Billy hesitates, but he nods assuringly. 

“You gonna be alright in there?”

Billy scans the exterior of the house. “He’s not home yet so I should be good.”

“And your ankle?”

“I’ll be alright.” He seems unsure, but Steve chooses not to push the issue further.

“Okay.”

Steve unbuckles his seat belt and goes around the back side of the car to the passenger side and helps Billy up out of his seat. As soon as he slams the door shut, rain starts to dump all over them.

The two are facing each other and Billy has half of his weight resting on Steve’s shoulders. Billy catches a glimpse of Steve’s eyes. Droplets forming on his eyelashes. His hair is already dripping fresh rain water onto his cheeks. It’s disorienting. 

Billy isn’t one for sappy shit but this is some freaky sign.

“I don’t want to be your friend Steve.”

Before Steve has a chance to respond his lips are pressed to Billy’s. It’s a quick exchange. Blink and you’ll miss it kind of thing. Billy has both his hands on Steve’s shoulders and is looking at him questioningly. Like he’s waiting for him to punch him or kiss him again. Steve chooses the latter.

Steve surges forward and crashes into Billy. It lasts longer this time. Still quick. But there’s enough time to appreciate the taste of each other’s mouths mixed with fresh rain drops. Steve pulls away first and is quick to offer a reassuring smile. They both look up at the rain coming down, and back to each other.

“Let’s get you inside.”

Billy has another reason to love the rain.

**Author's Note:**

> Response to a prompt on tumblr that I got extremely carried away with. Let me know what you think!
> 
> tumblr; mourntheantagonist


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